


Woods Comma Elle

by shaniacbergara



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Legally Blonde - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Legally Blonde AU, Legally Blonde References, M/M, it's a, what do i even tag this as
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-13 07:06:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21490345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaniacbergara/pseuds/shaniacbergara
Summary: It's the Legally Blonde AU that absolutely nobody asked for but I've taken it upon myself to deliver it anyway.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Beelzebub (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Gabriel (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 55





	1. Serious

When Aziraphale woke up on that gorgeous Friday morning, he knew he was going to have the best day of his life. The sun was already streaming in through the windows, and he rolled over luxuriously, basking in the warm rays. He blinked his eyes open, ruffling his hair a bit as he sat up. His blonde hair, natural, not bottle, was the envy of the campus, and he was proud of it. It rested in short curls, and always looked perfect, no matter how much or how little time he put into it. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, and slipped his feet into his well cushioned slippers, rubbing the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes. 

He was just ready to go about his morning routine when his dog, a scappy little thing he’d found as a stray, barked from the end of his bed. The dog hopped up, scampered towards the door, and returned to Aziraphale with something in his mouth.

“Dog! What’s this?” He asked, delighted, as he held his hand out. Dog dropped what Aziraphale now saw was a pink envelope into his hand. He tore it open, smiling. “Good luck tonight-Aziraphale and Gabriel forever!” He read aloud to Dog. He wiggled his shoulders excitedly while Dog wagged his tail. “Isn’t that sweet.” He smiled serenely, allowed himself to bask in the knowledge that he was about to get engaged to the most gorgeous man he’d ever laid eyes on for one moment, before he set about getting ready for his day.

A few outfit changes later found him strolling through campus with his head held high. Uriel and Michael had met him in the lobby of their house with a squeal and a hug, and had treated him to an iced coffee, and he’d taken it upon himself to purchase a pain-au-chocolat. After all, it was his day. To be entirely honest, every day had been his day. They strolled together, arm in arm, up the high street towards the shops. They earned cat calls and wolf whistles, but anyone who was anyone knew that Aziraphale was spoken for. Uriel, however, turned quite a few heads. 

“I think I ought to consider getting bangs.” Michael confessed to Aziraphale as they entered the shop.

“Never do anything after a breakup that will impact your future.” Aziraphale counseled, sagely. Michael nodded, she’d only been dating her most recent ex for a few weeks, but the post breakup urge to make a life changing decision was sometimes too strong to resist. 

Aziraphale tried on jacket after jacket in the store, fretting over what would make him look best. He ruffled his hair, turned from side to side, worrying over the lines of his outfit and the message that it would send to Gabriel when he picked him up. 

“I think you might be over thinking this.” Uriel commented, after Aziraphale shrugged on a red jacket. 

“There’s no way to not over think this.” He confessed. “This isn’t just any other day. This is it, the night that my life changes forever, the night I become something more.” He insisted, wide eyed. His friends melted at the look on his face. “I want to look special, but not like I’m expecting anything, though, of course, I am.” He giggled behind his hand, a light, ebullient noise. 

“You shouldn’t be ignoring your signature color.” Michael insisted, holding up a cream colored jacket. Aziraphale was about to try it on when he was interrupted.

“Excuse me, have you seen this?” The sales assistant had returned from wherever she’d scampered off to. Aziraphale raised his eyebrow. “It just came in, it’ll look magnificent with your hair color.” She gushed, turning up the charm. Aziraphale wasn’t impressed. 

“It may be perfect for a blonde, but I’m not that blonde. Honestly, you can’t expect me not to recognize that Westwood coat. It was in last month’s Vogue. Thank you very much for your time but there is no need for this kind of service.” He turned his back to her as Uriel and Michael cast dramatic side eye to the sales associate. 

In the end, he went with the cream coat. It was, after all, his color, and he wanted to feel like himself tonight. He spent the rest of the day getting ready. A manicure was certainly in order, and he treated his friends to one as they chatted amiably about nothing in particular. He dressed privately, and at half past six, he was perfectly ready to go. He paced in his room for a few moments, the butterflies in his stomach were certainly active, and he tried to ignore them. Finally, blessedly, he heard the knock at the door. He rushed down, allowing Uriel to spritz him once with cologne before he descended the stairs.

There, in the doorway, was Gabriel. He looked every inch the perfect husband. He was tall, with brown hair pushed back. He wore his sunglasses, despite the fact that the sun had already set behind him. His clothing was impeccable, he always dressed with such enthusiasm. Aziraphale met him in the doorway, and went up on tip toe to kiss him deeply. He heard his housemates sigh, as they peeked out from doorways and corners. 

“You ready?’ Gabriel asked, looking Aziraphale up and down. Aziraphale nodded, nearly too giddy to speak. 

Gabriel drove a beautiful car. A sports car, of some sort. It had been a point of contention, at some times, that Aziraphale could never remember what kind of car Gabriel drove. But he was adept at handling situations like these. All he had to say was “I don’t need to know what kind, all I need to know is that it’s beautiful and perfect.” That usually settled the matter. 

They drove with the top down. Gabriel needn’t worry about his hair, it was slicked back with gel, and Aziraphale’s hair would look perfect no matter what the wind did to it. The restaurant was only a few blocks away, but it felt good to arrive in style. Gabriel tossed his keys to the valet, with a vaguely threatening expression, and Aziraphale made it a point to smile brightly at the poor fellow, who seemed to relax.

They sat, Aziraphale was having a hard time looking anywhere but at Gabriel. He totally ignored the waiter, but luckily Gabriel preferred to order for him. He accepted the wine graciously, and once their meals had arrived, Gabriel took his hand from across the table. Aziraphale put down his forkful of salad, he wasn’t particularly interested in salad, anyways, and leaned towards Gabriel.

“Here’s to us.” He held up his wine with his free hand, and Aziraphale mimicked him, smiling at him.

“To us.” Aziraphale repeated, taking a little sip. The wine wasn’t excellent, he probably could have ordered better, but he sighed nonetheless. Gabriel cleared his throat, opened his mouth, and cleared his throat again. He took a deep breath, and Aziraphale knew that this was it.

“Aziraphale, I brought you here because I wanted to talk about our future.” He said. 

“I’m totally amenable to that discussion.” Aziraphale clarified. He felt Gabriel squeeze his hand, and shut his mouth quickly. 

“I know, and I guess it’s calming to know that this isn’t a total surprise.” He said, huffing out a laugh. “I want to get serious. We’ve been having a lot of fun, but I have my whole future planned. I want to get my law degree, I want to be a senator. I need to get serious. Which is why...I think that we…”

The words “I do” were out of Aziraphale’s mouth before he could stop them, but his heart stopped when he heard Gabriel finish his sentence.

“...should break up.” Aziraphale’s mouth dropped open. He set his wine glass down, only because he noticed that his hands were shaking too badly to hold onto it any longer. 

“Excuse me?” He insisted, tugging his hand out of Gabriel’s. “Excuse me?” 

“I’m sorry, Pooh bear.” He said, reaching out again, but Aziraphale held his hand out of his reach.

“You’re breaking up with me? I thought this was a proposal.” He stood, in utter disbelief. 

“A proposal? Aziraphale you’re ridiculous.” 

“I-” but Gabriel cut him off.

“Aziraphale if I’m going to achieve anything, I need a partner who’s serious. I need a Jackie, not a Marilyn.”

“What on earth are you saying?!” Aziraphale demanded, and it would have sounded more convincing if his voice hadn’t broken. He couldn’t have stopped the tears from streaming down his cheeks if he’d tried. “I’m not serious? Don’t be absurd.”

“I’m not the one who’s absurd, Aziraphale.” Aziraphale leveled a glare at him that had been known to make freshman quake in their designer boots. 

“Excuse me.” He said, and left without another word. 

The walk back to his home wasn’t far, but it didn’t take long for Gabriel to catch up with him. He drove slowly next to where Aziraphale walked, but Aziraphale refused to look at him. 

“Aziraphale, I’m sorry. Don’t walk home, let me give you a ride.”

“No.”

“Please, baby.”

“No, I’m not interested.”

“You’ll ruin your shoes.” Aziraphale looked down at his Oxfords. He sighed.

“Fine.” Before he got into the car he looked at Gabriel. “I am serious. I am seriously in love with you.”

He got out of the car, slamming the door, and sprinted up to his room, hoping to avoid any of his housemates along the way. 

Three days later found Aziraphale in bed, reading a terrible romance novel, tear tracks on his face. He couldn’t bear it. He didn’t have any classes, having finished with his last final, but he didn’t want to face his housemates and friends. 

Finally, Uriel and Michael were brave enough to enter his room. He’d thrown the novel across the room in a fit of absolute despair. 

“Aziraphale, that’s enough now.” Michael said, leaning on his bed. He sighed. 

“Come with us, let’s go take care of ourselves.” Uriel insisted, shoving an iced coffee with extra caramel into Aziraphale’s hand.

“I can’t bear it, Uriel.” He said, sipping the coffee as if it would give him the will to go on. “He said he needed someone more serious.” The pair of them scoffed, horrified by the very concept.

“What on earth does that mean?” Michael demanded. “You’re seriously the hottest person on campus. You’re seriously the leader of our fraternity. You were seriously May in this year’s UCLA calendar. What more does he want?!”

“I’m soft, Michael.” Aziraphale replied, moving a hand along his belly, feeling utterly sorry for himself.

“14,000 students who were polled about the hottest frat member on campus disagree.” Uriel reminded him, smoothing a hand through his hair. “Come on, mani pedis.” 

Eventually, he allowed himself to be dragged out of bed and into a nail salon. He listened as Michael updated her usual nail technician on his current pathetic situation, and flipped through a magazine. He paused when his eyes landed on a familiar face. He gasped, rushing over to Michael’s station. 

“Do you know who this is?!” He demanded, shoving the magazine into her face. She looked affronted. “That’s Sandalphon, Gabriel’s older brother! He just got engaged.” He looked at the picture of Sandalphon’s fiance. “This is the type of person Gabriel wants to marry. Someone serious! Someone...lawyerly! Someone who wears black when nobody’s died!” He waved the magazine around as he spoke. “This is what I have to be to win Gabriel back.”

“What?!” Michael demanded, scrutinizing him.

“A law student.” He breathed out, before tossing the magazine down and rushing out of the salon. He had some shopping to do.


	2. 179!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Come talk to me about this at toby-zachary-ziegler on tumblr.

Uriel and Michael chanced a peek into Aziraphale’s room the next day. They were shocked by what they found. Aziraphale sat in the middle of his room, cleaner than it had been the last time they’d seen it, pouring over textbooks. Uriel looked at Michael, utterly horrified. They’d never seen Aziraphale study before, surely, he must be ill.

“Oh my-what are you doing?!” Demanded Michael, surging into the room. Aziraphale looked up, having not heard them enter. He smiled brightly at them. 

“Studying for the LSATs.” He informed them, shifting to face them in the doorway. They spilled into the room. Michael looked at Uriel, confused.

“My cousin did that at a party once, apparently it gets you high out of your mind but it’s all natural.” Michael looked back at Aziraphale, eyebrows raised. Aziraphale rolled his eyes.

“The LSATs are an exam. I’m going to Harvard.”

“Like...for an extended holiday? You deserve some time away, let’s all go together!” Michael kept up a stream of positive affirmations until Aziraphale held up his hand.

“No, I’m going to law school.” He informed them, furrowing his brow and attempting to look serious.

“I-no hang on one second.” Michael replied, sitting down on the floor next to Aziraphale. “Weren’t you the one who just told me not to make any life changing decisions after a break up?!”

“Yes but that’s because bangs won’t suit your face shape, whereas law school will suit me just fine.” Michael looked affronted, but Uriel looked as though it made perfect sense to her. 

“Isn’t it...yknow...hard?” Uriel asked, gesturing around at the books. 

“I have the highest GPA in our house. If I can’t do it, who can?” Aziraphale had said the same thing to his academic advisor just a few hours ago. Uriel and Michael fell silent, Michael looking at Uriel, waiting for her to take the lead. She sighed, heavily, before beginning to rummage through her purse.

“Well, then you’ll need this.” She held out an enamel pin crafted in the shape of, what looked to be, at least to Aziraphale, a dildo. Aziraphale looked at it curiously. “It’s my lucky sword pin.” Uriel said, winking. “It helped me pass Biblical Literature.” Michael scoffed.

“You passed that class because you slept with the TA.” she said, it had been a big deal at the time.

“Yeah, luckily.” Uriel pointed out, and Michael just shrugged.

“Thank you, Uriel, this is lovely.” Aziraphale said, and promptly pinned it, phallic likeness be damned, on his bookbag.

“Well, we’ve got a lot of work to do. You know you’ll have to get top marks on your LSATs” Uriel began. “I can help you with that, you know I’m better at studying than you.” Aziraphale tilted his head, as if to concede. “And you’d better get Michael to help you with your admissions essay.” Michael winked at him. “But...if you want to do this, let’s do it.” Aziraphale couldn’t help it, he was so overcome with love for his best friends. He leaned in and kissed them both firmly on the cheeks. 

“Thank you.” He repeated, practically glowing with joy and love. 

It wasn’t easy, that was for sure. For starters, it seemed as though the LSATs were designed to be particularly difficult. This made Aziraphale feel disgruntled. He hadn’t had to study since high school, and even then he’d mostly gotten by on his good looks. These questions, though, were long and a bother to sift through. He preferred novels, and he told Uriel that at every possible opportunity. 

Not to mention, he was missing key events. Things he looked forward to every year. He missed the best mixers, and passed up on countless social engagements. Uriel was a tough study partner, she didn’t let him get away with anything. He would have much preferred to study over a pastry, a coffee. She only let him have coffee breaks when he’d succeeded on a challenging practice test, or when they finished an hours worth of review. 

Finally, finally, his test date arrived. He slipped on a cream sweater, he had to dress to impress, after all, and sat the exam. A hundred hopeful students sat in the hall with him, as he struggled to remember everything he and Uriel had talked about over the last two months. When he left, his hair had been mussed, and he was sweating a bit on his palms, but his eyes were bright, and his cheeks were rosy.

He spent the next few weeks waiting. He kept his partying to a minimum, and stayed up with his studying, just in case he was going to have to retake the exam. He filmed a truly brilliant admissions essay. A video essay would just be so much more enticing and convincing for the admissions panel. After all, why would he tell them what they’d be getting when he could show them? And, finally, the letter arrived. 

Michael ran it up to him. He had been descending the curving staircase, intending on making himself a sandwich, when it seemed he was surrounded by his entire house. His advisor had made a point, while snootily looking down at his grades and course history, to remind him that he’d need at least a 175 on his LSATs. Now, with the envelope in hand, it seemed to him a remarkably serious moment.

Aziraphale tore open the envelope and unfolded the slip of paper. He kept them in suspense, watching them cross their fingers, desperate for his news. Finally, his face broke into a wide grin. 

“179!” He exclaimed, and the house burst with cheers.

The celebration lasted all night. 

A month and an acceptance letter later, his parents thoroughly convinced of the merits of the institution (“It’s a great school, Mommy. Plus, I’m doing this for love!” he’d insisted), and he was off to Massachusetts.


End file.
